


but they can't stay forever

by felicities



Category: Actor RPF, Broadway RPF, Wicked - All Media Types, Wicked - Schwartz/Holzman, Wicked RPF
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-01
Updated: 2017-10-01
Packaged: 2019-01-07 13:10:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,941
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12233535
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/felicities/pseuds/felicities
Summary: Idina comforts Kristin after Maddie passes away.





	but they can't stay forever

**Author's Note:**

> originally written early september 2016, a few days after maddie's passing, before kristin went on aol build and talked about it in further detail, so in this story, maddie's not with kristin while she was filming _american gods_.
> 
> title from _borrowed angels_.

**august 27, 2016.**

Idina's sitting in a folding chair in the corner of the room, waiting for the crew to finish blocking the scene, when she finds out.

She's bored out of her mind, Nia's disappeared to take a nap, and everyone is keen on finishing this sequence so they can all break for dinner. 'Late lunch is more like it,' Idina thinks to herself, and, as though on cue, her stomach rumbles. She tries to keep her mind off of it, so she scrolls through her twitter timeline mindlessly, until the tweet catches her eye.

 

> [@KChenoweth](https://twitter.com/KChenoweth/status/769655356951715840):  Heartbroken. Love of my life. RIP Madeline Kahn Chenoweth

She freezes in her seat, tears welling up in her eyes. She checks the timestamp — posted ten minutes ago. She doesn't even have time to think before she's looking through her contacts, shaky fingers scrolling to the letter ‘C.’ She finds Kristin's name and hits dial without missing a beat.

Kristin picks up on the third ring, but says nothing.

“Hey."

“Dee."

“Hi."

"Idina," Kristin says weakly.

“I heard about Maddie."

Idina hears Kristin clear her throat on the other line before saying, “I already miss her, Idina."

“Oh, Kris. How did it happen?"

“She had heart disease. She's had it a while now, but the past few weeks she's been really sick. I didn't even have her with me, Idina. I still don't." Idina hears sniffling, and then a pause, and then a sound that's unmistakably a sob. “I’m so far away and I can't be with her. I wanna fly out but I can't. Dee."

This tone of voice is familiar; the way Kristin lets the words tumble out of her mouth without pause not new to her. Kristin rarely let this happen some twelve years ago—Idina's heard this maybe once, twice at the most, when the stress of the show and their affair had truly taken their toll on Kristin—but Idina can't forget.

“Kris, breathe."

“I can't."

"Kristin. Listen to me."

“I can't— oh god. Maddie. My Maddie."

The words are out of her mouth before she can stop herself. “Are you on set right now? Can I come by?"

“Dee, you don't have to…"

“I know. But I want to. Where are you?"

“I’m in Canada, Dee—"

“So am I. Where are you?”

“Toronto.”

“Agh, damn,” Idina curses. “I’m in Vancouver.” A pause, and then: “It doesn’t matter. Can you— is it okay if you give me directions?”

"Idina, I don't think this is a good idea—"

“Maybe not, but when did we ever have good ideas?"

"Idina."

“I’ll be on my way the second I finish this scene. Call you when I get there?"

“Okay."

“And Kris?"

“Mm?"

“Keep breathing."

“Okay," she says. And then, quickly: “Dee?"

“Yeah?"

“I— thank you."

“Anytime."

—

It takes around two hours for them to wrap up for the time being, and Idina doesn't even bother to drop by her trailer to change. She runs into Joby and tells her she's meeting Kristin and that she'll be back as soon as she can—Joby, of course, shoots her an apprehensive look, but she knows better than to stop Idina, and it's not like she'd be be able to talk her out of it, anyway.

Idina gets to the lobby of Kristin's hotel an hour later and this time, she actually feels nervous when she redials Kristin's number.

"I'm here," she says, standing awkwardly next to a ficus.

"I'm in room 816," Kristin tells her, voice still raspy and tired. "Idina, I don't think we should—"

“But I'm already here," Idina says, a little hurt, but also a little embarrassed. She knows better than to push, to force herself back into Kristin's life this carelessly, especially when she's hurting and grieving over the loss of Maddie, but Idina's never been one for rational decisions anyway. That's never been her—that was Kristin, always Kristin. Idina was rash, emotional, always carried away by her feelings. This was a mistake, she realises now. Coming here was a mistake. Calling Kristin was a mistake.

"Idina? Are you still there?"

“Hm? oh," Idina blinks. “You're right. This is a bad idea. I should go."

“Wait," Kristin says. “Wait. Okay. I— you can come up."

“Are you sure? I don't know what I was thinking, coming here. I'm sorry, Kris, I can leave—"

“No. I want to see you. I'm just scared, that's all," Kristin says, her voice gaining strength, sounding more like the Kristin Idina's used to—or at least, the one she's gotten used to over the years, heard and gleamed from bits and pieces of talk show appearances. Bright and cheery, but empty, ultimately.

“Alright, I'm going up — 816, was it?"

“Yes."

"I'll see you in a bit."

“Okay."

—

The elevator ride is agony, stopping at every floor to let a handful of people out and then a few others in. When the doors to Kristin's floor opens, Idina inhales deeply; her knees a little wobbly as she steps onto into the hallway. She makes her way through the corridors, her heartbeat racing as the numbers on the door move closer and closer to 16.

‘This is a bad idea,' she whispers to herself, but she knocks anyway.

The door opens, revealing a guy Idina's never seen before—tall, lanky, dimpled. His eyes light up, beams at her, and lets out a very enthusiastic ‘Hi!'. “You're here!" he exclaims, before turning to look behind him to exclaim ‘She's here!' into the room. “Come in," he says.

“Okay," Idina says, a little confused.

"I'm Seph, by the way. Kristin's assistant."

“Oh," she replies, everything finally making sense. "Idina," she tells him, offering a hand.

He grins and takes her hand in his, giving it a firm squeeze. “I know. anyway, she'll be out in a while, she's just freshening up. Can I get you anything?"

“Oh, no, I'm good."

“Alright. I'll be in the other room if you need me."

“Okay," Idina says shyly, once again finding herself standing awkwardly - this time in the middle of Kristin Chenoweth's suite in a hotel in the middle of toronto.

Idina hears a door close in the next room, and then muffled voices, and the next thing she knows she's looking at a barefooted Kristin, wearing a tank top and pajama bottoms, her hair in a ponytail, face devoid of makeup. She looks sad, fragile, tired—exactly how Idina remembers her towards the tail-end of their run together in _Wicked_ : a sight that Idina had sworn to herself back then that she never wants to see again.

“I haven't seen you since April."

“I know." It's not the longest they've been apart. Months used to pass them by, then years, until it became a decade, then another year, then two. The truth of the matter is they haven't been in each other's lives since that rainy summer night in July almost fifteen years ago. They never fooled themselves with empty promises of meeting up or keeping in touch, because they know neither of them will. There were the Tonys, yes, and forced reunions, but beyond that they'd both made a quiet, unspoken agreement that whatever it was that they had also ended when Kristin left.

"Idina."

“Huh?"

“You're zoning out."

“Sorry."

“Don't I get a hug?"

“Oh, god, right," Idina says, willing her thoughts away, and walking towards Kristin, enveloping her in a warm embrace. She feels Kristin's arms tighten around her waist, and her right thumb moves to Kristin's shoulder, caressing it with soft, familiar strokes. It's a while until Kristin lets go, and just a few moments before she does, Idina feels moisture on her chest. Her suspicion is instantly confirmed when Kristin pulls away far enough for Idina to see her face.

“I miss her," Kristin says, her voice back to its weak state. She sniffles, wiping the tears from her cheeks, and it takes all of Idina not to bring her hands up to Kristin's face to wipe the tears hers away herself.

“I miss her too," Idina sympathises. “Haven't seen that fluffball in - well, in a really long time."

“Remember the first time I brought her to the show?" Kristin walks to the couch, patting the space next to her as she takes a seat.

“Oh god, yes. Norbert couldn't get enough of her."

“Neither could you."

“She was adorable, Kris. So sweet too," Idina says, crossing her legs under her and facing Kristin.

“I haven't even seen her yet." Kristin pauses, her face crumpling and soon enough, tears are spilling onto her cheeks again. “I don't know that I want to."

“I mean - shouldn't you? It would give you some kind of closure."

“I can't... I can't bear to look at her lifeless body, Dee. Even just seeing her these past few weeks," Kristin wibbles, her left hand coming up to brush a teardrop from her eye, “It was so hard. She was so weak and quiet and it broke my heart. I couldn't do anything."

“She lived a really long life."

Kristin sniffles. “She did, didn't she?"

“She made you so happy."

“That she did."

They don't say anything after that; Kristin just looks down, fumbling with her hands, crying quiet tears. Idina sits with her, letting her grieve. She wonders if Kristin's been able to, what with her filming schedule, which, presumably, is just as crazy as Idina's. She puts a hand over Kristin's, and still they are quiet, just sitting there together. Idina welcomes the silence enveloping them; it's not awkward, and it's not the opposite either—it's not frustrated tantrums or tired, cracking voices trying to out-yell each other. They don't have to keep appearances of civility, being just the two of them this time—no stylists or photographers or pianists or crewmen or anything of the sort. It's something Idina thought they'd never share again, not after how things had ended between them.

She doesn't realise Kristin's been staring at her—for how long, she doesn't know either—but when Idina looks at her face her eyes are brighter. She still looks sad and tired and empty and everything that she was when Idina first saw her this evening, but something had shifted, and she's not quite sure what.

“You still did the thumb thing," Kristin says.

“What?"

“The thing. Every night, every show we did together, after ‘For Good,' when we'd hug, I’d feel your thumb on my shoulder. I don't think you ever noticed that you were doing it, but I did."

Idina looks at Kristin like she's crazy. “Oh god, really?"

“Yeah," Kristin says, moving to face Idina more fully, her ponytail swishing behind her. “You did it every show. Every night. Even the nights we fought. Even the nights we weren't okay."

 

"I'm— that's..." Idina doesn't know what to say, and she feels tears stinging behind her eyes. Silence, again, then: “I miss you."

“Me too."

“So much, Kris. So fucking much."

Kristin drops her head, focusing her attention back to her hands. "I'm glad you called."

"I'm sorry Maddie's gone."

"I'm gonna miss her. But, like you said, she lived a good, long life."

“And she made you so happy."

Kristin looks up, finding Idina's eyes, and looks into them, stares into them. Idina can feel her resolve shaking at Kristin's gaze, but she holds it, unable to look away but at the same time wanting so badly to. Idina knows this look — twelve years hasn't marred her memory, twelve years hasn't tarnished Kristin's ability to mesmerise her with it.

“Yes,” Kristin says, and instantly Idina knows that they’re no longer talking about Maddie.

**Author's Note:**

> an old-ish fic, never published, and never thought i would, but after idina's Announcement™ a few weeks ago i'd spiralled right back into wicked and these two and had a full-on chenzel renaissance that i thought, eh, might as well post this. everything hurts but i'm working through it.


End file.
